A fairy is accidentally summoned to Tyria
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Mordrem are aboard the ships.

He should have expected this, of course Mordremoth would send his minions and attack—but Zhaitan couldn't do this, they couldn't have expected Mordremoth to have such complete control over the jungle. Now dozens of thick, thorny vines are shooting out from the jungle at the airships, strong enough to pierce right through, and aboard them are the dragon's minions. Plant humanoids, like himself, but clearly corrupted, twisted into horrible abominations, a mockery of his species. And he fights them, because how could he not? Even though they might all die as the ships come crashing down despite their best efforts.

He casts a Reaper's Mark on the floor, directly in front of an approaching Mordrem; the circular symbol should trigger a fear effect on it once it crosses the mark, if the creature is even capable of feeling fear.

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Something must have gone wrong, because this mark doesn't wait until the plant monster crosses the boundary to have an effect. The redheaded young woman with two sets of iridescent bug-like wings that appears is another clue in that direction. Her initial smile quickly disappears as she looks around at the battle into which she's been summoned.

"Um. What?"

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...the Marshal doesn't recognise her. He thought he knew everyone in the Pact. Maybe a new recruit? Mesmer by the looks of it. "Look out!" he calls out at her just as an ugly plant humanoid tries to hit her with a huge sword.

And the airship is still falling.

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She totally fails to acknowledge that she just got hit by a sword as she hovers slightly above the deck, craning her neck to get a look around. Her wings flutter but don't seem to be the primary source of her lifting power.


The airship is indeed falling. She's not what you might call familiar with the technical details of how an airship is supposed to work, but she's pretty sure it involves not careening out of the sky. So. Now it's not doing that anymore. Also that ugly plant person that hit her should learn some respect for personal space. He can do that from over there.

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There are all those other ships all around also falling and/or being actively pushed down onto the jungle floor by huge thorny vines...

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Well. She has no idea what's going on here. This is normal for neither Fairyland nor Earth, so far as she knows. If she's ruining some demon's theater performance they can take it up with her summoner, but first she's going to collect all the vines and move them away from the airships and hold them down in a big bundle like so and then the falling airships can stop doing that, please.

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If it's a demon play it's a damn realistic one, what with all the people being impaled by swords and bleeding to death.

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Well, there's no accounting for taste. Where'd her summoner get off to, is he still right there...?

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Yes, right there, fighting for his life, using some sort of—weird magic. There are a few creatures made of flesh and bone without any skin surrounding him and he seems to be able to control them with his thoughts, and they're helping fight off two plant attackers.

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Okay she officially has no idea what the fuck is happening anymore.

"Hey!" she calls. "Do you have a preference for where I put these ships down? I assume away from the murdervines."

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"Away from the murdervines sounds good! Away from these horrendous creatures would also be a tremendous idea!" he calls, then rolls to dodge an axe swing that almost cuts his head off.

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"Try to not die, summoner."

This is going to take a bit of concentration, so she runs over the sequence of actions in her mind, then- Murdervines released and focus on airships, then before the vines can snap back up the fleet and the people and the air around them are up and they are moving and then they're three miles eastward with nary a hair out of place because she is just that good. Well, no hairs that she can see, anyway. And no one slammed through a hull and started plunging to their doom so it's probably fine.

And then she can spare the attention to send those two things attacking her summoner plunging to their doom. And all those trees in the way of a clear landing zone get pushed over and she can set the ships down.

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People are... confused.

Also some plant people that do not look monstrous—look, in fact, quite a bit like her summoner—seem to also be fighting other people. Most others are trying to merely subdue them but that's not always successful.

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Better confused than dead! She flits over to her summoner. Wow, he really is made out of leaves, huh. Like some sort of... salad... person.

Anyway.

"Hi!" she chirps. "Do you mind pointing out which are the bad guys and which are the good guys? Also, do you want them dead or gone or captured?"

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"I don't know which in particular are good or bad, but if you could just make them not be fighting anymore that would be sufficient."

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Oookay then. She'll just judge these salad books by the covers, and everyone who looks like her summoner she'll pull over here, and all the big'n'ugly guys can go in a pile on the other side of the clearing.

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Some of the salad people that look like her summoner are also trying to stabbity-stab other people, though...

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Siiiigggghhhhh.

They can get their own pile.

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And now all the fighting has stopped.

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Good! Okay.

...She's not sure what to do next.

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Well the salad person who summoned her is looking at her with something akin to awe. "What sort of magic is this?"

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"The best kind!" She bounces in the air a bit.

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Then pauses. "-You don't have the word. What language is this? Where are we?"

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"Tyrian, or Common Language. You're speaking it, aren't you?"

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"Apparently! I'm Evanathe, by the way. What's your name?"

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"I'm Trahearne, Marshal of the Pact. You just—saved our lives."

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